


Father of the Other Bride

by Tsuukai



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Explicit Language, I Don't Even Know, Mildly Offensive, Multi, Other Unnamed Characters - Freeform, Two Fathers, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:25:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4452926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuukai/pseuds/Tsuukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daiki never wanted to see this day come, but it came nonetheless. And, well, so did the next day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father of the Other Bride

The pot of tea served by the Pastor of the Church sat stoically near his elbow, giving manly vibes of comfort even if he did not need it. At least, that was what poor Aomine Daiki was telling himself.

Said man’s left leg was jerkily bouncing to a beat in his head. It took him by surprise—the show of nervousness—but it was there and it needed to stop. A firm hold on the point of his kneecap stilled its movement momentarily. A second; another goes by; on the forth one, the bounce reappears with a vengeance, done with its forced obedience.

Even his body was winning over his mind.

The way, ten days ago, he was asked by the bride to this farce of a ceremony.

Daiki let out a huff of air through his mouth, the only sound in his little waiting area. He glanced about, hoping to find something to distract his wandering mind into doing some productive thinking but even that was difficult; the room was so boring. Breaking his stiff seating posture on a chair he has only seen in old _taiga_ serials of samurai visiting newly westernized-influenced houses, he spread apart his thighs, slipped his lower body a bit further, and dropped his head backwards. An equally boring and dull ceiling expanse—when viewed upside down as well—greeted him. Once this posture found him a smidge of comfort, one hand automatically slipped into his new Herringbone wool pressed pant pocket, pulling out a beat-up smart phone. He frowned, thumb trailing along its newest scratch, mentally calculating how much more money he needed to switch service providers; his current plan was pathetically pointless, and hardly found coverage in most areas. Even as he had decided to change it the last time its renewal was up, in haste he had missed his chance, only to later be reminded by the company of his stupidity.

“Oh, great!” Daiki cheered to himself, seeing the cheery face of a full availability of reception and the little blinking 3G icon. Briskly, as though on a mental trail of a killer, Daiki’s fingers swipe open an internet browser and soon enough, the discomfort of his position leave him behind to the ease of something familiar.

He cannot tell how long he spent deluding himself, but no sooner than he finished looking at a crime report a junior at work had asked him to glance over, the brush of material at his knees made his eyes jump up. A dainty hand, covered in sheer lace around delicate and prominent knuckles, a small stretch of lips covered in a blush of pink he has not seen on her before. His mouth gapes a sliver, eyes already wide as they assessed the magnificent sight before him.

“I can tell, then,” the demure voice of the deific being lets out through those lips and Daiki falls even more for the other, “that I made the right decision on the dress.”

Daiki’s mouth was dry as he moved his tongue to wet just as dry lips. The dress was beautifully simple—the satin that made up the dress’ bodice and skirt was covered in the same lace as those around her hands, trailing along delicate-seeming arms and across shoulders. Her trail started off mid back, but was short enough not to be dragged and held by an entourage of people, and which was currently hooped to the side by a little loop made especially for such an event. He could not see her feet, so he guessed when she walked it would look like she was gliding, and he would give every appendage attached on his torso to record that moment. Chuckling hoarsely, he imparted childishly, trying to overcome his wistful desires, “And I still hate that you didn’t let me come along!”

The woman in the light wedding dress laughed a sound even more divine than the twinkling of ringing bells at dawn. But Daiki is biased, as most reminded him, and that flew well with him either ways; he would have been forever grateful that no one would hear this sound from this precious woman.

“Didn’t I tell you not to do work today?” A pout graced her features. Looking guilty and feeling every ounce of its weight, he sheepishly smiled. “This day is never going to come again, you know!”

Daiki growled. “I hope not!”

The woman’s mock frown and glare combo petered out, a smile gracing her lips again. “Yea, I hope not, too.”

They remained there, for a brief moment, Daiki staring benevolently up at the perfect bride standing in between his parted knees, before a sigh broke their thoughts. “You guys,” a young woman’s voice sounded—the bridesmaid—“are stalling the procession. Hurry up!”

Daiki snapped his teeth at the other, who simply rolled her eyes at him.

“I don’t know how you deal with this man-child, Bomi-chan,” she muttered.

In spite, Daiki mocked, “I don’t know how you deal with this bitch, _Bomi-chan_.”

“Bomi-chan” giggled though swatted both instigators smartly on their arms as she passed them to the door. “Only a few more hours, you guys,” she reprimanded them. “Now play nice!”

Daiki scowled. “That’s what you said before! And look, _Tamago_ is still here!” 1

_Tamago_ scowled furiously back. “She told me the same thing! Why I believe her for so long, I have no clue, but she lied about that as well: I told you, old man, it’s _Tamako!!_ ’

“They both sound the same,” Daiki pressed, stalling, turning his face away from the fuming lady.

Before Tamako could snap back, Tsubomi’s cheerful “It’s not so hard to find your replacements, you know…” rung out between them.

Audibly snapping their jaws close, the two followed the bride out into the antechamber of the main entrance. Tamako stood before the second exit of the room, waiting, and Daiki held his crooked elbow in a gentleman’s pose. Tsubomi smiled winsomely and it physically hurt to see it. A man opened the door to their waiting room, peeked, darted back out for a quick second, before popping his head back to face them.

“Give me 30 seconds before the first note starts and then you can start the procession.”

“Then why are you still wasting time, you Stupid Man?” Daiki sniped rudely, the newcomer frowned, wanting to say something but stopped, closing the door after his exit. Daiki knew it was because Tsubomi signalled him not to. “Sorry,” he forced out, annoyed. “It’s like they’re just wasting so much—”

“Well,” Tsubomi softly cut in, leaning into his shoulder, “So are you…”

At that, Daiki wished there was a hole right under him, but that would mean missing more than 30 seconds, so he unwished it fervently. “You’re right,” and sharing a cheeky grin, added, “As always.”

“God, you guys are mushy,” Tamako mumbled from the front. Daiki spared no words for her; he brought up his knee to her behind instead.

“I can’t take either of you anywhere!” Tsubomi exclaimed before the first note sounded, and Tamako took a deep breath, pushing the door open to start their seemingly short trek, not giving Tsubomi any time to calm down. “Oh!”

“Easy,” Daiki said, reaching for the intertwined arm’s hand. He patted it softly but grasped it tightly.

Tsubomi passed him her first watery smile of the day. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“No, it’s not,” he confessed. They followed a beat after Tamako, the sound of the wedding march echoing terribly inside the church. “It’s really difficult. And,” scrunching his face in distaste, he asked, “Did you find no other Church?”

Tsubomi scoff, “Not with your schedule.” He blinked, unrepentant, “And this wouldn’t be my wedding day if you weren’t there.” The squeezing of his heart made him almost falter in step, but as though knowing this, Tsubomi clasped him tightly around his muscled upper arm. Another watery smile from her, and another sharp grin from him.

 

* * *

 

 

The hall of this church was lacklustre at best. The large space had been sectioned off into three, apparently to make use of other services at the same time. The clergy of the institution were lucky that the wedding was only for close family and friends, otherwise Daiki would have pitched a fit no one would have survived from. On arriving a few hours prior, he had seen a few couples and babies as young as a few months congregating towards one end of the sectioned off Church hall. He wondered what those people were doing. The other section in the middle had been milling with a multitude of people and he just did not understand how all those people remained so quiet since his arrival. Now, walking down the aisle with the most beautiful bride on the planet (and in history for all he cared), those thoughts were like unwanted flies to a cooling pie on a window sill.

And no, he was not biased about the bride.

Tamako had stepped to the side, mirroring the stance the Stupid Man was occupying, and there was maybe 10 feet left, so Daiki wanted to make these last few seconds memorable.

He chuckled , starting with, “Tsubomi, do you remember—”

The bang drowned out the rest of his sentence, spurring a reaction to pull out a firearm he did not have on him. Cursing its absence, Daiki moved in front of Tsubomi to act as a shield and first defence, and their small guest attendance all turned around in shock. Even the Priest jerked back in surprise along with those littering the platform. “What the—” he does not get to finish again because someone else is shouting out.

“I can’t believe you!” He was accused by a faceless and nameless tall stocky figure, the light behind the man blaring. The man thundered forward, hands fisted at his thighs, shoulders stiff and unmoving, “What, you moved the venue because you didn’t like how it sounded on the card or something?! Do you not have one shred of decency in that useless body of yours that you couldn’t tell your bride-to-be by at least informing her in advance of the change in location?! What are you, a criminal avoiding discovery?!”

The string of passionately hostile questions kept those of the audience in staggered agape. Daiki wished his mind could work fast enough to wrap around the accusations so that he could belt out at least _one_ wisecrack at the seemingly insane man. He felt sorry for the man’s daughter and the other bride-to-be.

Said insane man roared bodily as he walked _right up to Daiki_ , and for a second, through one blink and the next, Daiki saw red.

Not even the “I am so fucking angry, you ruined the grandiose moment of my life, you fucking bastard”-red, but the more “Your fucking hair is as red as that large buffoon I knew—” “Kagami…Taiga?” Daiki continues aloud.

The one-man stampede comes to an arm’s length halt. Red hair smartly slicked back with small strands flicking across a clear forehead, eccentric eyebrows meeting in a scrunch at a nose bridge sporting a proud nose. The ferociousness of the look (as well as the confusion) could be seen in red eyes that were rounded when meeting Daiki’s. It really was Kagami Taiga in the flesh.

“Ng,” whatever Kagami was going to say was swallowed rather abruptly. “A-Aomine?”

Daiki grinned, forgetting for a second that the two were holding up a wedding that he honestly did not want to go through just a few minutes back. And then, as though remembering it, he scowled. “Fool, what are you doing here?”

“Hah?!” Kagami blurted out, eyes once again passionately burning as they glared somewhere behind Daiki. The strong jaw of the other man snapped close to show full gummed teeth. “Are—are you the reason the ceremony was moved?!”

Daiki blinked. He could feel Tsubomi tighten her grasp around his bicep, tugging gently back towards her. Clearly, the young woman did not want him to be fighting it out today. “What nonsense are you talking about?”

Kagami took another sweep to the side of Daiki. “Oh, is that how it is.” The words were almost chewed and spat out. “I see now. So my daughter wasn’t good enough for you, huh?” Kagami’s expressive mouth was pursed tightly, eyes narrowed in what should have been threatening but looked more like it was holding tears at bay. “And _that_ is the girl he wants now, is it?” He scoffed at Tsubomi, nose turned upwards, and declared, “Well, _my_ daughter is much more divine than _that_!”

Now Daiki was getting more than simply annoyed. First, the _boke_ interrupted the prime opportunity he was getting with Tsubomi; a time they could never get back again. Then, the _boke_ decided to _scoff at Tsubomi like she was the scum of the earth_ , now that, that Daiki could not let go.

“Now you listen here, you snivelling asshole,” he started, voice going deadly in 0.001 nanoseconds flat. He did not know when he raised his arm, but a finger was already poised rudely, aimed at pointing at Kagami’s solid chest. In the back of his head, Daiki appreciated the firm pectorals hidden by the perfectly cut black tuxedo the redhead wore, watching as his index finger nearly trembled with the pressure he was exerting to indent the material on said chest.

At the same time, a softer, urgent voice was hissing out, “Oh my God, what is wrong with you?! You’ve seen Hi-kun’s father, does this _ji-san_ look like that _Ogifu_?!” 2

Daiki’s words derailed. “Hey, I resent that!” He snapped at the equally tall though feminine redhead pulling at Kagami from his waist. “I’m not that old!”

The female redhead blinked pretty brown eyes. “How would you know? Have you seen him?”

Daiki clicked his tongue, now seeing an entirely different red.

“No,” Tsubomi quietly entreated, tugging again.

“What’s going on here?” Daiki clicked his tongue again, registering that the man he was not ready to meet was now nosing in on his business.

“None of your business,” he parted, dismissive.

“Yea,” Kagami echoed, burning holes into the newcomer. Daiki did not bother to correct the redhead. “And it’s just like you to be marrying such a young thing.”

Daiki’s eyes widened on their own volition. “Wha—?” Even Tsubomi’s grasp slackened.

“But this is my wedding these people are crashing.” The newcomer, dressed to the nines like any good groom was to be dressed, looked more put-upon than Daiki imagined he himself could be. Kagami’s expression, though, his expression was priceless.

“Oh,” Kagami croaked, cheeks turning an awfully similar colour. He glanced between Daiki and Tsubomi and inarticulately repeated, “Oh.”

 

* * *

 

Daiki tried to keep his balance on the barstool while the unnerving beats of a retro-pop culture group blasted familiar-unfamiliar songs behind him. The slight tremors from both, the music and the dancers, could be felt from each shaky leg of the stool up to his resting elbows on the clean bar before him. The barkeep was young, smitten with one suave look of his and an order of neat whiskey, cheeks aflame with red. As red as the redhead sitting and muttering and growling to Kingdom come on the stool next to him.

Daiki eyed the four other stools aligning the bar parallel; three after Kagami sitting on his left and one on his own right. When his drink arrives faster than Kagami’s own, he polishes it off before he is forced to reason out with the enraged deranged man, who after the debacle at the church (it stood to reason that the bunch of quiet people in the other section of the church was where the _boke_ really had to be), offered the once-upon-a-time-private-wedding-ceremony to crash at the grand hotel ensemble Kagami had whipped up for his own guests. Guests, if Daiki was paying attention, were enthusiastically whispering under hands and into ears about the Kagami’s household being late to the wedding and the possibility that the rude, obviously not-as-divine-as- Tsubomi-was, tall redheaded woman was a runaway-bride.

“What use are you to me if you can’t even do that?!” Kagami roared, bringing Daiki’s attention at his new founded headache. If the alcohol the two were consuming to literally outdo each other did not give Daiki a killer hangover, just spending time with Kagami would.

Daiki blinked tiredly, placing his drink down on the makeshift bar. “But your son-in-law _Hi-chan_ is a famous Japanese baseball player, Kagami. I think the association does their part and checks on the players themselves.”

Kagami scoffed, waving his hand at Daiki’s face. Daiki wanted to bite some of the tips off. “Yea, yea. I’ve not seen him play even once.”

Raising an eyebrow, Daiki asked him slowly, “Do you watch baseball games?”

There was brief hesitation, as though Kagami was fighting with himself, before he snapped out, banging his own tumbler on the bar surface, “When I had the time, I would!”

Daiki figured it was the closest to lying by omission Kagami could get, being the honest fool that he was. To cover the smile playing on his lips, Daiki lifted the drink back to his mouth, hoping to empty its contents and have an excuse to not look at Kagami after that. His insides were bubbling to laugh out loud at the obvious jealousy the man catered towards his newest son-in-law.

“I’m glad you don’t have to worry about another son-in-law, Bakagami,” he let slip out.

Now Kagami looked even more pained than he did four hours prior to their third drink of the evening. “What are you talking about? Clearly you didn’t notice the other kids.”

He frowned, tilted glass pausing just so, and he questioned the obvious: “What other kids?”

Kagami waved that wretched hand close to his face again, fingers unawares of their impending doom by Daiki’s teeth, and said on passing as if talking about the fair weather, “Ah you know, my kids.” The waving hand suddenly straightened and pointed over to the table closest to the dance floor. “There’s number 1, 3, and the baby of the family. Number 2 was the bride today.”

Daiki’s eyes narrowed, taking in the two older boys and the little girl at the table. “Energizer Bunny, huh?” He signalled for a new drink, the blushing barkeep rushing to fulfil his order.

Kagami growled while drinking the last quarter of his amber liquid, making it bubble and froth as he chugged it down. Scowling as he used a thumb to wipe off unnoticeable excess liquor off his lips, Kagami said, “Shut your mouth; I’m surprised not to see a soccer team under your belt.” Then the redhead looked queasy. “And I don’t know if I went wrong somewhere, or their mothers went wrong somewhere, but both the boys are as gay as they come.”

Both the barkeep and Daiki sputtered at the confession. “Oh!” The young woman said, turning tail and pretending she had not been eavesdropping. Daiki instead about-turned for a different reason; he stared at the youth at the previously indicated table and squinted, hoping to see what he did not see before. Still maintaining his broken radar status, Daiki shrugged.

“There’s no such thing as bad parenting when it comes to this,” Daiki spoke in a sagely way, swirling his drink. The music changed to something soft and slow, but wordless, indicating that the upbeat band had stepped off their performance platform for a break. A good riddance, if Daiki had any say in it.

“Yea?” Daiki did not turn to face Kagami. “But this just means I have to worry about three more sons-in-law...”

Daiki winced. “Oh God, I feel you, man…One is definitely enough…” Daiki reached over with his new glass, clinking it to Kagami’s empty one, “Here’s to your impending doom!”

Kagami made a face between a cross of a pout and a growl. It was a cute reaction, and it was something Daiki put on the other man’s face. “God, you’ve not changed a bit. Still an ass.”

He chuckled, looking down at his drink. Then snapped his head up. “Wait a sec…” He glanced at the brooding Kagami. “You said _mothers_ …”

Kagami frowned, consuming more alcohol. Smacking his lips, he mumbled, “Yea, three of them. First one couldn’t handle my _…appetite_ , the second one couldn’t handle the kids, and the third…” Kagami grimaced. “Let’s just say she lost it when I refused to throw the second son _and his boyfriend_ out of the window for desecrating our kitchen.”

Daiki laughed uproariously. His drink sloshed out of its confines, coating his fingers, so he brought the hand holding the glass up with the support of his elbow on the bar close to his mouth. Grinning, he lowered his voice, eyes hooded, “So…does this mean that gay is in your genes?” Daiki lapped his liquor-sloshed fingers in one smooth stroke, making sure to keep his eyes on Kagami. The redhead gulped dryly, watching him, before a watery grin spread over his wide mouth.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Whatever it had been that Daiki was expecting Kagami to do, he definitely was not expecting Kagami to flirt back. Where was the naïve man from the past eight hours? Glancing down at the empty drink on the bar before Kagami, Daiki assumed it was the alcohol talking. Figuring he could get some fun out of this—Kagami would pay for the numerous times he wanted to beat the other man in the day for all the problems he caused—Daiki leaned forward into the man’s personal space. “Oh yea?” He smirked sensually back. “Suppose I would?”

And then, because Kagami always proved what an insufferable ass he was to Daiki, shrugged in mock grief. “Too bad I’m not wearing any jeans now, though.”

Stumped, Daiki’s jaw dropped unheeded.

“You did not just make a lame joke.”

Kagami blinked innocently but his haughty aura did not go away. Daiki glared, resuming wetting his drying throat.

“I’m not too sure you should be commenting on any lame jokes,” the redhead said, pushing himself away from the bar rather gracefully for a presumed drunk man. “You won’t find it funny the next morning.”

Choking, as there was no other neural response working in Daiki, he watches Kagami saunter away—smirking over a shoulder, red eyes gleaming with hidden intent—from him. “Fucking bastard,” he swore under his breath, determined to follow the other man.

 

* * *

 

 

The headache that Daiki predicted hours ago came with the banging of a door wide open he does not remember needing to close. Blinking crusty eyes into soft pillows—his were not soft, rather lumpy, drool-infested unforgivable things—he buried his head further in, hoping whatever banged the door open did not need him serviceable. Just as he was thinking how soft and warm the bed was, a loud, unwelcomed screech woke him up entirely.

“The fuck!”

Movement on the bed made Daiki scrunch his eyes more. Last he remembered, no human thing wanted anything to do with him when he was four sheets to the wind, and even then, no one stayed around after the fact. Remembering the quality of the bed he was burrowing in, however, changed his mind.

It seemed he scored massively the previous night.

And in a few minutes, he would be showing the other male who disturbed his sleep (and what could have potentially been a very entertaining waking) how fit Daiki was for his age.

Only the sequence of events did not progress the way he was expecting. Right from when a hot, heavy muscled arm draped around his hunched shoulders, bringing him closer to the warm source, up to the part where he tried (and failed) to remember how he landed where he was.

“Why are you screeching so early in the morning?” A deep voice grumbled, Daiki feeling the vibrations in his ribcage. A puff of air displaced his bangs. “You didn’t even—”

“Forget my manners!!” Daiki struggled to push away, both from the voice that his brain was slowly registering and the younger, affronted voice at the door. Who was steadily advancing towards the bed. “You have no clue how loud— _ngh_!!” The abrupt end signalled that Daiki needed to move. Pronto. “ _He’s still here?! Why didn’t you tell me he was still here??_ ”

Daiki seriously needed to teach the kid how to whisper.

The impending figure on the bed moved, sitting up. The soft, warm covers drifted down, low, into the redhead’s lap, tufts of equally coloured hair peeking out at the world. If that was not enough, the obviously happy somnolent appendage had to join the club.

Daiki quickly darted his eyes elsewhere, scrambling to get off the bed, only to be severely hindered in his escape: in all of his 48 years of life, he has never—never, he reiterates—fallen so spectacularly off a bed before.

An unpleasant sensation bloomed from his hip down to his knee where most of his weight was held, but the eyes on his exposed backside were more prominent. Unconsciously his fingers clawed the floor beneath them, dull _scrritch_ noises following the motion.

“Oi, Aomine?”

Daiki ignored the concerned probing.

“Aomine?” Daiki could feel the bed shift, no sound of any springs creaky ( _that lucky bastard_ ) but more of material sliding off naked skin and the air currents moving above him. Daiki quickly tries to position himself in a less vulnerable pose, but every moment exposed some body part of his; he wanted to show nothing to the brute that was the sole reason for his burning body. “Aomine, if you’re looking for something to cover your lacking chastity…here,” and Daiki was insufficiently concealed by a soft, silky cloth. Snapping it away from where it landed on his head, he glares at the object with abhorrence. “What?” Kagami asked of him.

Deciding not to complain until it was fully being used, Daiki struggled to get the shirt Kagami had worn the previous day, moving in complex jarring motions to hide his apparent lacking chaste bits. All the while, steady streams of curses were spewed.

“It looks good on you,” Kagami was saying then, just as Daiki got on his heels, arms akimbo, ready to blast Kagami. The words made him falter—it was not the discomfort of the pain blooming up his back and crawling down his thighs—and Daiki could feel the heat rise up his neck and settle on his cheeks. Kagami was still lounging on his (what could only be a) California King bed, sheets shamelessly pushed below his waist, one strong arm holding his cheeky, handsome face up and the other resting casually on an exposed dipping hip.

Daiki swallowed his spit because he needed to lubricate his throat in time for a shouting spell; not because he was drying up at the sight. _What sight?_ He snapped at himself.

“You asshole,” Daiki wanted to start, but just as he let out that just of breath, something made him stop. He, and his redheaded audience stared along with him, felt a sticky trail make its way from beneath the protective shadows of the shirt Kagami so generously gave him. There was no mistaking what it was. And with the tremulous smile on Kagami’s face for him to see, Daiki roared, lifted one foot off the ground and into said face. “You fucking _came in me!!!_ ”

“Hey!” Daiki snapped his head towards the unwanted second redhead in the room. He did not care how it looked: him wearing a shirt just barely covering his balls and with one foot stamping the lecherous grin off Kagami-senior’s face.

“What?!” He snapped at Kagami-junior.

“You asked for it!” The youth equally snapped. “All night long, if I have to add!”

Kagami’s loud and raucous laughter was background music for Daiki’s long bemoaning scream. While Daiki lamented his fleeting dignity, Kagami reached up to pull Daiki back into the bed. “Oi, get out of here. I’ll deal with your complaints later,” he said over Daiki’s head. “Right now, I’ve got my hands full with this guy’s complaints.”

The youth did not stick around; Daiki watched as the door closed to the dungeon he was suddenly feeling himself being stuck in. and then the thought stuck.

“Oi,” Kagami stopped licking and kissing his jawline for a brief second to rest glistening ruby eyes at him, “When you said your first wife couldn’t handle your appetite…you meant…” The deepening devilish grin was the last thing Daiki actually saw, but that did not stop him from crying out: “ _Oh you fucking glut_!”

“Now, now, Aomine,” the sinful voice of the man he had been thinking Daiki could bed with no fail making his skin dance with hot and cold tingles, tongue trailing away from the jawline to his nape, “I can only keep eating when something so delicious is put in front of me, you know…?”

And closing his eyes, relaxing his body into the grasp of the glutinous beast, Daiki succumbed voicelessly. “I’m going to get you for this, you bastard.”

“Sure, sure,” Kagami spoke into his hot skin, “Whatever you’d like to do, Aomine. Whatever you’d like to do.”

When Daiki is able to withdraw from this monster’s claws and sated appetite, he is going right up to Kagami’s son-in-law and smacking him senseless; if only that fool found another Church to have a secret wedding without the paparazzi pilfering about, Daiki would have had his virtue intact and not pillaged by this man.

If only.

 

* * *

 

 

**Translations:**

1 "Tamago": Aomine says this, not only because of her name, but also because of how she looks. -__- He's a vain character, isn't he?

2 Ji-san and Ogifu: Uncle (old man) and father-in-law. Technically, Kagami's daughter is being rudely polite—it’s accurate to call Aomine “ji-san” though she was comparing him to an apparently older man (her husband-to-be's father). Also, it would be polite to call the father-in-law "Ogifu-san" or "Ogifu-sama", but... She's her father's daughter, right?

 

* * *

 

 

**Author’s Note:** I’m so ashamed of myself at the moment…this…went in all sorts of directions before it ended and I don’t even know how!!!

(Okay, maybe I blame how long it actually took to come out, and that’s probably the only reason it has blown up like this…OTL)

And...there might be a few (more like A LOT) of mistakes...so I'm sorry for that as well!!!!! m(__.__)m

Hope some of you enjoy this nevertheless!!!


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